Tag: Sophie Tucker

Let us say you are a history teacher (Junior High to College) and are teaching American History for (say) 1911. That is the year in which the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory burned down with most of its workers, a woman was the first to fly across the English Channel, the big books included G.K. Chesterton’s “The Innocence of Father Brown,” “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” made Irving Berlin famous, and the first effective electric self-starter for cars was developed.

I could just see how much of this would be ho-hum time for the students. As I have been stating for years, perhaps songs of the period, tied into the events and temper of the time, would begin to rouse the interest of some of the tweeters. Even if they laugh at them, that would be a step in the right direction.

Well, Archeophone has just released two more CDs in their incredible “Phonographic Yearbook” series, one of which happens to be “1911, ‘Up a Little Bit Higher’.” Here are 25 vintage recordings released that year, each of which connects with life in that period of history, each of which has a bounce designed to please people of all ages, or a lovely melody which just might get through the indifference of some students.

A woman aviator? “Come, Josephine, in my flying machine” is an “invention” song, as is “The Oceana roll.” A growing sense of national superiority? “Under the yum yum tree” and “King of the Bungaloos” are part of the call to exotic places. An increasing wave of the Irish into the country? “Mother Machree” is the tear jerker of the first water. A desire for musical comedy? “Italian street song” from “Naughty Marietta” and other Herbert operettas is just the ticket.

Of course, the majority of the songs deals with Love. (No surprise.)

“1919, ‘Jazzin’ Around and Paintin’ the Town’” has 25 selections of recordings from that year in which soldiers returning from the Great War demanded a better deal and formed unions to get it. I have several older CDs filled with “protest songs,” but this Archeophone collection is of a wider range. Only the plaintive voice of Bert Williams in his “It’s nobody’s business but my own” and “Oh, Death, where is thy sting?” represents the underdog. But people were more interested in the fact that “A pretty girl is like a melody” or “A good man is hard to find.”

Even the non-Irish could praise “That wonderful mother of mine” while those who moved to the cities could still yearn for “Beautiful Ohio.” On the other hand, “How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm? (after they’ve seen Paree).” The two selections that directly refer to the war are “Oui, oui, Marie” and “The Rose of No Man’s Land.” (I suppose that “Make love, not war” is the implication here.) Among the happier sort is “Ja-da (ja da, ja da, jing jing!)” [and they say our lyrics today are sappy!] and the rest are love songs as one would expect.

It is apparent that these stars knew how to project and to enunciate. First of all, the size of the vaudeville houses in which they performed demanded both skills. Also, not all vocal performers had voices suited to the then state-of-the-art recording techniques. Students today might laugh, as I said, at these singers; but a good teacher could elicit from them just why they had to sing that way. (What! make students think?)

Another plus is the excellent booklets included with each Phonographic Yearbook. They are loaded with information about the events of the year being featured, facts about each recording, and lots of photos of the times and of the singers. Oh, for those not in the teaching profession, you will enjoy these discs for many reasons other than educational. For my age group, that means “nostalgia.”

Kudos, Archeophone!

Not only does the Archeophone website (www.archeophone.com) list all of their available discs but it even supplies the track listing for many of them.

What can be done with Archeophone Records, which releases one superior CD after another? I have reviewed so many of their discs that I have run out of adjectives to say how good they are. And then they came out some time ago with a blockbuster called “Sophie Tucker: Origins of the Red Hot Mama, 1910-1922”! The NY Times gave it a full page spread in their Sunday edition when it first appeared. With less space to command, I will give the bare facts.

Born sometime in the late 1880s and passing away in 1966, she was an original—like Mae West and Al Jolson—who developed a public image that was magnetic. Growing up when Ragtime was beginning to catch on and was developing into jazz, Sophie had a tough-as-nails but with a heart-of-gold persona that wowed audiences. Her powerful voice was just right for the acoustic recording machines of the day.

Not only was it powerful with regard to the recordings, but it was dramatic in a fun-loving way that sold the songs in a way that only Al Jolson, Nora Bayes and (in his own way) Eddie Cantor could do. In short, she sounded as if she meant every word of it. With her, “red hot” meant more than just “ready for action.” She had many imitators but no peers.

The Archeophone disc holds 24 of her early recordings, including “That lovin’ rag,” “Phoebe Jane,” “Please don’t take my harem away,” and “Don’t put a tax on the beautiful girls.” Not one of them became a classic and that is what makes this collection even more interesting and valuable. There is the usual warning against “racially derogatory language,” but Archeophone argues that we can’t censor history to present a nicer but false picture of the past.

Archeophone has always included thick booklets that were worth the price of the album alone, filled as they were with information and vintage pictures. In this case, they have put the 60-page booklet and disc between hard covers; and this format is just right. (The older paperback booklets would hardly fit into the jewel cases of the earlier releases.)

To those who remember “the last of the red hot mamas” and to those who will love getting to know her, this Archeophone set will be a real treasure.